


Just Bones

by terryreviews



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Gen, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 21:13:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17774336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: They were just bones. Dust and bones. It didn't matter if they were the remains of his mortal family.





	Just Bones

**Author's Note:**

> I'd taken it upon myself to write a drabble for a mutual over on Tumblr about a post they'd made about Lestat finding the bodies of his dead relatives as he was reconstructing his father's chateau. This is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

Dust. Just a  few bones and dust. That was all. Broken arms, a cracked jaw, bits of near deteriorated fabric.

That’s what Lestat had to remind himself of. Nothing. It didn’t matter. They didn’t matter.

When they’d been discovered, naturally he’d been called. He went to the mountain, saw the makeshift grave, the pile of remains. Again, bones. A whole mixture. It would take an expert to sort the differences, make them individuals again.

For a while, as he stared into the shallow pit, an LED lantern swinging behind him (held by one of the crew members), he wondered whether he should call Gabrielle. He didn’t.

Ultimately, he called for an expert, sort the bones. Soon, his nephews and nieces, brothers and sisters-in-law, were set out. All neatly cleaned, laid out on their tables. He visited the lab once the work was finished and from there, what did he want to do?

With power and influence, several elegant coffins were delivered to the nearby city and picked up and brought to the construction site.

For his brothers, glossy black. His sister-in-laws had polished brown. For the children, a glistening white with golden accents.

The new gravesite wasn’t marked, but Lestat remembered where he put them in the woods. It hadn’t taken him long. Unwatched, he removed his long coat, sunglasses, gloves and rolled up the sleeves of his very expensive shirt, and dug with a borrowed shovel.

They still weren’t six feet down, and perhaps it didn’t matter that they were given a new place to rest. After all, he thought to himself as he patted the dirt down, they were just bones.


End file.
